


being human, or something along those lines

by frosmxths



Series: (dis)connect [2]
Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, OT3, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:28:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24398038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frosmxths/pseuds/frosmxths
Summary: ‘It’s okay to feel down’ in the quiet clack of the mug being set down on the table, in the movement on the couch, in the glass of water carefully placed next to Seoho’s nearly untouched food.‘I’m here’ in the way the water’s just a little warm, in the way Seoho’s breath catches in his throat and comes out shaky and wet.--Sometimes, existence is suffocating.
Relationships: Lee Seoho/Son Dongju | Xion, Lee Seoho/Yeo Hwanwoong, Son Dongju | Xion/Yeo Hwanwoong, Son Dongju | Xion/Yeo Hwanwoong/Lee Seoho
Series: (dis)connect [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1761502
Comments: 16
Kudos: 59





	being human, or something along those lines

**Author's Note:**

> a ridiculous amount of hand-holding and kisses. 
> 
> if i missed? any tag please let me know..

“Hyung?” Hwanwoong stands at the door to the kitchen, eyes sleepy and hair disheveled in the telltale sign of bed-turning, of wanting to sleep and losing the fight every time. Seoho looks at him with a smile, spoon clattering to the plate in front of him as he puts it down to wave at him.

“Can’t sleep?” he sounds chipper, surprisingly, and Seoho can’t help but find it a little painful, find himself a little painful- his eyes are still burning with too many feelings, but he lets them be soothed by Hwanwoong’s sleepy yawn and smile.

“Kept thinking too much” He walks past the threshold. Grabs Seoho’s spoon to steal a mouthful of rice once he’s close enough, then walks to the fridge to rummage through it.

“Guess I’m just stressed” He grabs leftover juice from yesterday’s lunch, smells it, makes a face and chugs it down anyway. Seoho laughs, utensils discarded on the table as he stands up and grabs the small jug off Hwanwoong’s hands. He frowns, half-glare on his face, eyes non-threatening and heavy with exhaustion.

“You’ll get sick” Seoho pokes his forehead teasingly, steps away and towards the sink quickly as Hwanwoong whines and steps behind him one beat behind.

“It was still fine!” Seoho pours it down the drain.

“Was not” Hwanwoong pouts and Seoho lets himself laugh a little more, voice light and airy as he puts the jug down and turns around, pushes Hwanwoong back to the fridge. “Get some water and try to sleep again, Woongie”

Hwanwoong huffs, pours himself a glass of water, the sound of glasses clinking together and water pouring quiet even against the silence. Seoho hums to himself, sits back down to stare at his food. His phone’s next to it on the table. Battery low and forgotten face-down. He thinks about picking it up, about scrolling or answering messages, maybe texting Youngjo to let him know he might be late tomorrow- might not make it tomorrow- thinks about-

His phone buzzes. He sighs, weakly pushes it further away.

He doesn’t really feel like being human right now.

Hwanwoong walks by him, a light touch of his fingers brushing through Seoho’s hair. He jumps a little, then quickly turns to Hwanwoong with an apology on his lips. Hwanwoong just smiles at him, lowers his hand. The other’s holding a warm mug, one he probably got while Seoho was lost in thought. Hwanwoong’s hand goes up to his mug, sleepy eye smile present as he tilts his head to the side and motions towards the entrance to the kitchen.

“Wanna watch a movie?” The tone is almost careful, quiet, and Seoho appreciates the gesture. He gives Hwanwoong a smile, picks up his spoon and hear a chopstick roll away.

“After I finish eating?” He laughs, cringes at how forced it sounds, stabs his food with the spoon.

A beat.

The other chopstick threatens to fall off the table.

“I’ll join you later”

Hwanwoong sighs, takes a sip of his tea and nods as he starts walking again. “Make sure to leave it in the fridge” And he crosses to the living room with a wave of his hand.

Seoho breathes.

A second.

He pokes his food once, twice. Exhales.

Inhales. Drops the spoon and hears a chopstick clatter to the floor.

‘It’s okay if you don’t finish if you don’t want to’ left unsaid, but Seoho felt it in the air anyway, in the quiet hum of noise from the TV in the next room over, in the almost imperceptible sound of Hwanwoong breathing. ‘It’s okay to feel down’ in the quiet clack of the mug being set down on the table, in the movement on the couch, in the glass of water carefully placed next to Seoho’s nearly untouched food.

‘I’m here’ in the way the water’s just a little warm, in the way Seoho’s breath catches in his throat and comes out shaky and wet.

He laughs to himself- unstable and a little shattered, pushes the chair back to stand up and go to bed- go somewhere else- he downs the water a little too fast, puts the food in the fridge with robotic practice and edging impatience. He walks out of the kitchen feeling his head spin, turns towards the hallway to his room and stops.

The TV is a gentle buzz, volume low and brightness down. Hwanwoong’s curled up on himself against the armrest, careful hands settling the mug in front of his face, steam covering his vision in blurry white. He’s still awake, eyes half-open and fingers drumming against the cup as he sips, a quiet noise ringing in the air as the mug clanks against his glasses.

Seoho feels himself smiling and, when Hwanwoong meets his eyes with a small smile, Seoho feels like crying.

He wants to go somewhere safe, so he walks towards Hwanwoong.

He lets himself drop on the couch, close but far away enough that only the tips of his fingers are almost touching Hwanwoong’s legs. Hwanwoong hums at him, drinks a little more from his cup before stretching to leave it on the floor, far enough from their feet he’s sure they won’t kick it. He pulls his knees up again, curls up. Seoho watches him, sees colours from the TV reflect green off Hwanwoong’s glasses, feels a flash of white light burn through his own lenses.

Whatever movie it is that’s playing is still on, but everything feels drowned in silence, and Seoho wonders, briefly, if they’ve fallen asleep.

Hwanwoong’s hand drops on the couch, warmth of his palm on the top of Seoho’s fingers. Seoho thinks about recoiling, about closing in on himself- thinks about warmth, about the warm glass of water, about hands running through his hair- always kind, soothing.

He lets out a shaky breath, a quiet laugh almost leaving his throat as he moves, places his hand on top of Hwanwoong’s.

Hwanwoong lets out a yawn, lets his legs fall, drops his head on Seoho’s shoulder and turns his hand so their palms touch, fingers intertwining and warm.

Seoho runs his free hand through the front of his hair, feels the prick of tears fresh in his eyes. He turns, as best as he can, buries his face in Hwanwoong’s hair and tries to breathe.

He chokes, glasses digging into his face. He feels his own breathing, listening to Hwanwoong’s, tries to follow his pace, tries to keep every breath even.

Everything shakes. Hwanwoong squeezes his hand, turns the volume of the TV up by a couple of points.

Seoho cries, feels the weight of the world and his choices pressing down, suffocating.

He tries to push it back, even though Hwanwoong is safe- even though there’s no reason to build walls, not now, not after he’s managed to tear them all down. He breathes in, sharp, shaking, a choked wet noise against Hwanwoong’s hair.

He feels his glasses fog up, feels his own breath against his face, feels Hwanwoong’s quiet humming under the noise of credits rolling on the TV.

Seoho thinks he hears a noise, something like the air being knocked out of his lungs- it comes again and again, and he realizes it’s only the sound of his own crying, of air that seems to escape him, of trying and failing and holding on tighter to Hwanwoong’s hand, of-

“Hyung” Hwanwoong twists on the couch, brings his free hand to the back of Seoho’s head, runs it through his hair- softly on his scalp, touch careful, almost like he’s something _delicate_. A louder sob rips itself out of Seoho’s throat, almost painful, drives him to move, to bury his head against the crook of Hwanwoong’s neck- and the way his glasses dig into his face is painful, must be painful for Hwanwoong, too (metal against his skin, too cold and too warm and drowned in breathing and gasping and-), but, right now, all he really wants to think about is seeking- seeking safety, warmth, _Hwanwoong_.

“Breathe” Hwanwoong’s voice against his ear is steady, even if sleepy. It’s quiet, and Seoho feels like, slowly, he’s remembering how to breathe.

Hwanwoong counts quietly (a seemingly endless repeat of one, two, one, two, _one, two, one…)_ and Seoho breathes along, inhales and exhales to the rhythm Hwanwoong sets, almost like the beat of his heart.

Calming, calming- Seoho finds himself landing back in reality, grip that had turned his knuckles white loosening, Hwanwoong’s hand still held in his, thumb stroking the back of Seoho’s hand.

He sniffles once, twice- buries his head against Hwanwoong’s skin even more, takes in the gross smell of sweat and whatever is left of the cologne he put on this morning.

Hwanwoong strokes his hair, black strands slipping through his fingers with practiced ease. Seoho sniffles again, something akin to a small giggle leaving his lips afterwards.

“You’re sweaty” It’s muffled against his skin, and Hwanwoong lets out a noise that’s almost a laugh, hand pulling at the roots of Seoho’s hair in mock annoyance.

“You’re sweating on me” He smooths Seoho’s hair, runs his hand down his neck and back. “Now I need to shower” He fakes a pout, an exasperated sigh, and Seoho lifts his head with a laugh.

“I’m not that sweaty” his eyes are red, hair standing up and sticking in every direction still, nose and cheeks flushed and wet as he sniffles again. His voice sounds rough and about to break, but Hwanwoong doesn’t comment on anything.

Seoho’s thankful.

He’s really so thankful- for this, for the hand drumming at his back softly- for _Hwanwoong_.

He tries his best at a smile, and Hwanwoong smiles back at him, eyes maybe a little red too.

“Let’s go to bed?” Hwanwoong’s hand moves from Seoho’s back, strokes his hair again, pushes it down so the mess settles even a little bit. Seoho nods with a quiet ‘okay’, ghost of a kiss landing against Hwanwoong’s temple.

Hwanwoong stretches, pulls Seoho’s arm up with his over their heads, stands up and brings Seoho with him. Seoho lets him, lets himself be pulled (lets himself give, give Hwanwoong what, right now, to him, is Seoho’s everything).

The TV turns off with an inaudible click, white and yellow text swallowed up by a sea of black. Hwanwoong’s cup sits abandoned on the floor, but Hwanwoong puts a finger to Seoho’s lips and whispers a soft “Dongju will scold us tomorrow” before he laughs and kisses the corner of Seoho’s mouth.

They walk in silence until they’re at the door of Seoho’s room, and Seoho’s stubbornly refusing to open the door and let go of Hwanwoong’s hand. Hwanwoong sighs, a smile on his lips, nonetheless, hold on Seoho’s hand still solid and careful.

“You’re not kicking me out in my sleep?” Seoho laughs, maybe too loudly, shakes his head.

“I won’t yell in your ear either” and a quick peck “Probably”. Hwanwoong snorts, and then they’re turning and walking towards the other room, quietly turning on the small nightlight by the side of Hwanwoong’s bed, carefully closing the door behind them as to not disturb Dongju (who has some school project due, who sleeps way too lightly for all he does, who’d kick at them and complain, who’d kiss tears off Seoho’s face and hug Hwanwoong until he started crying too-).

Hwanwoong’s bed is messy, bedsheets halfway on the floor and clothes scattered all over, a pillow half off the bed, and Dongju sleeping in the middle of it, blanket wrapped around him and hair all over his face.

Hwanwoong sighs.

“Why’re you both taking my bed today…” he tries for annoyed, but his murmur is so wholeheartedly _fond_ Seoho just runs a hand through his hair and smiles.

“You’re warm?” matter of fact as much as it’s a question, and Hwanwoong turns, hits Seoho lightly with his free hand, the other still tightly grasping Seoho’s, as if afraid he’d run away (and Seoho’s glad for it- because he’s afraid he’ll run away too, will close up the walls and bury himself in his own worries, all on his own, again and again).

“I’m not even on the bed” Hwanwoong’s voice is lilted with laughter, and Seoho shrugs in response before moving forward, letting go of Hwanwoong’s hand to kneel on the bed comfortably (he squeezes it a little before letting go, a way to assure Hwanwoong that he’s staying, he’s still here- and Hwanwoong takes a little bit, but he lets go). He puts a hand down to steady himself, uses the other to push Dongju’s bangs away from his face. Hwanwoong looks at him, hand awkwardly falling at his side. “You’ll wake him up”

Seoho grins, moves to poke Dongju’s cheek. Dongju whines in his sleep, and Hwanwoong rolls his eyes with an amused laugh halfway stuck on its way out. Seoho laughs back, a little loud, pokes at Dongju again, runs his hand down his face, shakes his shoulder lightly.

“Dongju” singsong. Hwanwoong sits on the edge of the bed, watches as Seoho keeps shaking Dongju until the latter whines a little too loudly, kicks in Seoho’s general direction and hits his knee. Seoho pushes Dongju’s leg back while laughing, lets himself fall on the bed next to him. “Wake up”

“No” Dongju’s pouting, pulling the blanket so it covers his face and serves as a barrier from Seoho’s incessant poking. “It’s still not morning” He trails off, getting quieter as he goes. His voice is muffled, sleepy, pitched a little too high and whiny. Seoho lets his hand drop on the bed, turns on his back and stares at the ceiling with a soft sigh.

Hwanwoong brings one of his hands to hold Seoho’s, again, warm against the bedsheets. Seoho holds it back, eyes closed and breathing calm.

“I’ll go sleep in Dongju’s bed?” Seoho holds his hand tighter in reply, but it’s Dongju who makes a noise, moving his blanket down so that his eyes, barely open, peek out.

“Stay” Hwanwoong blinks, reaches out as best as he can with his other hand to push Dongju’s bangs from his eyes.

“We won’t fit” The bed is for one, maybe two can make a tight fit, but three is a little too much, he thinks. Dongju huffs, lets his blanket fall on the bed and sits up, hair disheveled and rubbing at his eyes. He’s cute. Seoho opens one eye, shuts it again, turns so he’s now facing Hwanwoong.

“It’s your bed” Seoho’s quiet, voice thin and almost breaking (it hurts to hear him like that, and Hwanwoong wishes he could make it go away).

“I’m letting you use it, it’s fine” barely above a whisper, Dongju pouts, heavy with sleep, reaches out over Seoho so he can get to Hwanwoong’s free hand.

“Stay”

So, he does.

Of course, they don’t really fit, end up cramped in the bed, Dongju’s back against the wall and Hwanwoong almost falling off the edge. Seoho’s in the middle, oddly enough, facing Dongju, both arms kept a little awkwardly between them. He’s got his head under Dongju’s chin, Dongju’s arms draped over him and under the pillow. One of Hwanwoong’s hands is held between Seoho’s, the other brushing against Dongju under pillows and blankets. His face is against Seoho’s back, breathing on his neck and hair on his face. Their legs are a mess under carelessly thrown covers, Dongju’s blanket securely wrapped around him and whatever of Seoho it can reach.

It’s not the best, it’s uncomfortable, cramped- but they make it work, somehow, fit to each other like nowhere they’d rather be, and maybe this is worth all their limbs waking up sore the next day.

Dongju mumbles something unintelligible, buries his face in Seoho’s hair as best as he can. Seoho laughs a little, sniffles quietly, buries himself further against Dongju. Hwanwoong kisses the back of his neck softly, holds on to his hand tighter.

Seoho laughs again, wet against Dongju’s skin, and Dongju opens his eyes again to look at him. His gaze is hazy, confused and barely focused, and when he moves his hand to poke at Seoho’s face he nearly hits Hwanwoong on the face (Hwanwoong only lets out a quiet whine, but says nothing- instead focusing on holding Seoho closer, if at all possible, on placing kisses against his neck and on gripping his hand tighter).

“Seoho-hyung” Dongju’s careful, places his hand against Seoho’s back when he sniffles again. “Hyung?” Dongju sounds lost, and Hwanwoong finds himself smiling, hand that’s stuck under the pillow moving so he can free it, use it to stroke Dongju’s hair (they’re all bent awkwardly, but Hwanwoong manages to _reach_ , and that’s all that matters). Seoho sniffles again, and Dongju frowns, lets out a questioning noise, nuzzles against Seoho’s hair in worry.

“’m fine” Seoho’s voice is shaking, cracked and vulnerable, and they both hold him tighter (as if he’s going to fall apart, crumble into nothing and disappear- as if he was going to leave if they didn’t, curl in on himself and build walls taller and taller and _taller_ and impossible to reach). Seoho breathes in, out, wet with tears and feelings against Dongju’s skin. “Just tired, promise” He lets go of Hwanwoong’s hand with one of his, holds on tighter with the other. He brings his free hand up to his face, rubs at his eyes without moving away from Dongju, sniffles painful against silence.

Dongju doesn’t stop frowning, but he doesn’t say anything else, just strokes Seoho’s back and nuzzles his face closer, breathes against Seoho’s hair.

Hwanwoong keeps his hand against Dongju, soft against his hair, his face- Dongju raises his head, eyes tired, nuzzles his face against Hwanwoong’s palm before going back to Seoho’s hair. Seoho giggles, laughter broken by a half-sob. Hwanwoong kisses his neck again, again, _again_ \- holds on tighter, kisses the back of his head- once, twice, again, again, _againagainagain._

It takes some time- some time of Hwanwoong holding his hand, nuzzling against him- some time of Dongju whispering his name over and over again, against his hair, hand kind on his back.

It takes some time- but, eventually, Seoho breathes a little easier again, eyes sleepy and red. His sniffling is still there, quiet, together with slight shivering and whispered promises of _I’m okay it’s okay I’m sorry it’s okay_ (it’s painful- it’s painful to hear Seoho apologize for being human, for _feeling_ \- so they hold on tighter until Dongju starts to cry- until Hwanwoong’s eyes burn and his breathing shakes and he hides his face against Seoho’s back- clings to him like a lifeline).

“Don’t cry” Dongju’s voice is muffled, by own hand covering his face, the other one now holding one of Seoho’s under the blankets. His sobbing is quiet, slight hiccups and sniffles irregular and loud, hitting Seoho’s hair in small puffs of air. “Don’t cry” his words are hard to hear, lost and slurred with sobs and unstable breathing. Hwanwoong breathes in, holds Seoho closer.

“Not crying” Seoho’s voice is lighter, soft as he runs his fingers over Hwanwoong’s arms around his chest. Dongju sobs again, rubs at his face with his sleeve, holds Seoho’s hand tighter. “Dongju” Dongju inhales, shaky, lets Seoho pull his hand down, put it on top of one of Hwanwoong’s. Seoho tries for a smile, a soft laugh on his lips, and Dongju whines at him with tears all over his face.

Seoho laughs a little more, pulls Dongju down to kiss him- soft and chaste, wet and warm (and Seoho tears up again, chest aching at the _warmth_ \- Hwanwoong’s against his back, his chest- Dongju’s face and lips and _everything_. There’s warmth everywhere and Seoho feels so _loved_ ). He pulls away, breathing erratic, and then Dongju pulls him back in again, over and over, soft and careful and _loving._

Behind him, Hwanwoong smiles against Seoho, moves back when Dongju pushes him, parts with Seoho to lean over with a whine, lips barely brushing against Hwanwoong’s. Seoho laughs, crushed under Dongju’s weight and floaty with feelings and the thought of _being human_.

Hwanwoong sighs, lets go of Seoho to move, lift himself up and kiss Dongju properly, run a hand through his hair. He whispers against his lips, quiet and careful _let’s go back to sleep, I love you, okay?_ and Dongju nods, kisses back, holds onto Seoho’s hand tightly with an _I love you, too_ before he falls back on the pillow, kisses Seoho again- catches and takes away his breath, thoughts, _everything_.

Seoho kisses back, lets himself be _human_ again- but only here, for them. Only human in the way Dongju whispers he _loves hyung a lot, okay? let me love you a lot_ , in the way Hwanwoong pulls him so he’s facing the ceiling, in the way Hwanwoong kisses his cheek and leans against his shoulder, the way he puts their held hands between them. In the way Dongju kisses his face until he’s tired, whiny little noises as he tries to settle so Seoho’s arm is trapped under him (Seoho lets him, thinks about how sore his arm will be tomorrow- about how red his eyes are, how he’s not going to be able to open them in the morning- how everything is sore and his nose is stuffy and-).

Dongju lightly bumps his head against Seoho’s face, hair tickling his nose, whines that Seoho’s _awake_ and now _he’s_ awake too and he _can’t sleep much like this_ and- it all devolves into pointless mumbling against Seoho’s skin, a kiss to his neck, breathing warm and hand falling on top of his and Hwanwoong’s. Seoho kisses Dongju’s forehead, nose (laughs at the way Dongju whines again, frowns playfully, sleepy complaints on the tip of his tongue)- lets his head rest against him, red strands soft and tickling.

Seoho smiles a little, lets his eyes close, feels them ache with tears and exhaustion and too many feelings. Feels silence envelop him, quiet breathing and warmth from the nightlight soothing and lulling him to sleep.

“Thank you” Seoho’s voice is a whisper against buzzing silence, and Hwanwoong hums in reply, half-awake. “Love you two” quieter. Hwanwoong holds his hand tighter, moves a little closer, mumbles something that might’ve been a _love you too_. Dongju smiles against Seoho’s shirt, places a kiss to his shoulder, grips his shirt a little tighter.

Maybe sometimes, he thinks, consciousness slipping and foggy, it’s alright to be a little human.

**Author's Note:**

> unspoken feelings and understanding? the sweetest. my jam. i am now crying at my own hands. 
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/frosmxths)
> 
> [cc](https://curiouscat.me/frosmxths) (in case u want to go anon or leave a comment idk)


End file.
